Remind me who I am
by Demented Insane Spirit
Summary: Pre-Invisible Ring. Lucivar and Jared meet in a court and Lucivar is a bit surprised to find how similar the Shalador Warlord is to Daemon. One shot.


DIS: Can you tell that I enjoy Jared as a subject for my DJT fics

DIS: Can you tell that I enjoy Jared as a subject for my DJT fics? :-D

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_Title: Remind me who I am_

_Rating: T_

_Genre: General_

_Summary: Pre-Invisible Ring. Lucivar and Jared meet in a court and Lucivar is a bit surprised to find how similar the Shalador Warlord is to Daemon. Drabble._

_Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own DJT. _

_Notes/Warnings: Drabble one shot._

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_Remind me who I am_

A simple court.

A simple Terreille.

A simple mind.

A simple _life_.

Lucivar couldn't remember the last time his life hadn't seemed so routine. His life as a slave in the courts of Terreille had hardened him to everything else, made him violent. The tickle of a friendly memory did not seduce him, but repulsed him. The idea of good memories – of memories before his life as a slave – was a dangerous one. He could not, and would not, allow himself to recall that there had been something before this Hell.

Although, there were not many memories to work on, either. The only vaguest memory he had of life before he was a slave was when he was young. The sound of a deep, silky voice that flowed over him like water and the feel of his tiny wings beating furiously, his own voice raised in shrill, delightful laughter.

Barely a memory, but enough to keep him hopeful of a Queen releasing him from his damned hold in Terreillean courts. If Daemon Sadi, one of the most yearned-for pleasure slaves, and a man with a temper as cold as a winter in the northern corner of the world, could hope for Witch to save them, then Lucivar could, too. He had been lucky for his Eyrien bloodlines that attributed to his dark temper. If not, he would have remained a pleasure slave like Daemon. They had tried _safframate_, but, fools as they were, that only made things doubly worse. _After all, when you have no release and have a violent temper when you're _sane_, how could they possibly imagine it would be any more satisfying? _Lucivar wondered with a sneer.

Idly, and with honest boredom, Lucivar let his amber eyes roam across the length of the warm room. _The Aristo Blood must feel so proud of themselves_, he mused. _The women act like bitches in heat as soon as a man looks their way; and the men, of course, serve them and do it well, no matter whether they have a family or not. Disgusting creatures. Revolting, Hell-bidden creatures._

His eyes paused, landing on a pair of cool, green eyes that he might have mistaken for Daemon's had they been of a different colour. Startled, and straightening a bit, Lucivar bore a hole through the male whose attention had caught his. His skin was darker, but not of that of one of the long-lived races. His hair, dark and thick, hung around his face while his eyes, so cold and expressionless, turned around the room. His mannerism and stance was so familiar to Daemon's that it threw Lucivar off balance for a moment. The Eyrien quickly eyed him. He wore clothes of fine silk, meant to seduce and entice.

_Pleasure slave,_ Lucivar thought immediately. It was too obvious a conclusion not to be true. The way women would smirk at him and eye him; the way he kept a respectable distance away from the Aristo Blood; the way he simply stood there, his hands tucked in his pockets was too much like Daemon and too elegant for anything other than a pleasure slave. _Who is he? _The question beat against Lucivar's brain relentlessly as he stood there, numb. After a beat, he tightened his wings against his back and obliged his curious mind, gliding through the crowds towards the Warlord.

The emerald eyes flicked towards him briefly as he came to stand beside him. The terrace doors were only some feet away. Lucivar would have preferred to speak with him without these blood-suckers looming. "Come outside for a moment, Warlord," he purred, baring his teeth in an intimidating smile. The male faced the smile with a bland look, but pivoted on his foot and glided towards the terrace doors. Lucivar followed, glancing casually behind him to make certain no one had noticed two slaves escape the confines of the building.

Once outside, Lucivar felt more relaxed. He spread his massive, leathery wings out and a flash of wariness entered his companion's eyes. When Lucivar folded his wings again, the male murmured, "My name is Jared. I suppose you are the infamous Lucivar Yaslana?" His tone was dry, but careful, judging Lucivar's reaction.

"And you know Daemon Sadi, even more infamous than I?" Jared smiled thinly.

"I know him personally."

_Which would explain a few things, _Lucivar thought, looking away from the Warlord briefly. He couldn't understand why Daemon would bother himself with another pleasure slave. He knew every side of Daemon nearly as well as his own self – he felt that way, in any case – so he was more than a bit baffled by his companionship with the Warlord. As he quietly contemplated this to himself, he noticed that Jared had been silent the entire time. Snapping his sharp eyes to the other male, he saw that Jared was quietly surveying the gardens, his face grave, still without any real emotion glimmering through. "You're a pleasure slave, am I right?"

"You are." His short answers were beginning to irritate the Eyrien. "I was recently bought by this Queen." His smile was small and bitter. "I hope the bitch burns." Startled by the dark vehemence in his voice, Lucivar stared at him, speechless. "Ah...I admire you and Sadi, Prince," Jared said with a soft sigh, raising his eyes to Lucivar's face. "You have ripped Queens to shreds without any qualms, without any thought to what could happen to you. I really do envy you for that."

"It is nothing to envy."

"I disagree." Jared spread his hands out, towards the sky. "You have a full sky above you, a land that stretches out all around you, and yet you have no way to explore it because you are trapped in damned Terreille." He dropped his hands, his face tipped towards the sky, his expression bleak. "There are some slaves who have families out there, Yaslana." He looked to Lucivar. "Do you?"

"I never knew my family...I don't think." A too-knowing look crossed Jared's eyes, but was gone in an instant. Lucivar kept his expression controlled, despite his Eyrien temper wanting to unleash itself. He wasn't certain _why_ he was so upset, only that he _was_. "The priestess who my mother gave me to is the reason I am here. I imagine she believed I would be safe. I don't remember her, or my father. I don't even have any memories..." The last part had been a lie, something only he or Daemon would have known. Daemon knew too much about Lucivar from simply looking at him and sometimes, it was the same for Lucivar with Daemon.

"Mmm...I made a mistake of falling into lust with a woman and she deceived me by slipping the Ring over my cock." Jared's eyes turned dark with temper. "I thought, as a Warlord, that I would be respected as such. From where I come from, a Shalador Warlord must honour their Queen, their Priestess, their Healer – they must honour women, simple as that, and they will be treated in the same manner. I have never felt as betrayed as I did in that moment, Prince. It was the number one worst moment of my life."

"Trust me, boyo," Lucivar growled, "there will one day be a moment to top that one. There always is."

They fell silent then, Jared gazing up at the stars with his speculative expression and Lucivar gazing around the gardens, feeling strangely lost after discussing such things with a stranger. When he looked at Jared, there was a tired, longing expression on his face, the masks he had raised onto his face gone. He knew that Jared was younger than himself, but the strain of everything was weighing on top of the Warlord much more than it ever had on Lucivar. He suspected there was something else behind his story that he had neglected to tell him and had likely never told anyone else.

"Things will not always be this way," Jared softly said, dropping his head, facing Lucivar with his blank expression yet again.

"No," Lucivar agreed, "they won't." A slow, genuine smile curved Jared's mouth up, his face seeming more handsome with the expression. He inclined his head and then passed Lucivar, his hands shoved in his pockets once again. Lucivar watched him, letting a sigh escape his lips. He was so much like Daemon, in so many ways. There was a soul behind Jared's face, though; sometimes, Lucivar wasn't so sure that there was when it came to Daemon Sadi.

With another sigh, he stretched his wings out one more time and then loped over to the terrace doors to face another boring evening with the Aristo Blood.

_Finis_

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DIS: Hum, hum. I can honestly say I have no comment for this story. Please leave a review on your way out. Ciao!


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